Shack to Sea, Life to Death
Arista Lai, Group 3: Fiction, German Swiss International School
ne chafing hot day in a small village in the outskirts of Yinchuan, a young farmer and his brother
were working on their farm. The whole village was a long way from any developed county, and the
nearest water source was at least an hour away on foot. Being neighbours with the great Gobi Desert,
the inhabitants of the village were used to sweltering summers and freezing, dry winters. They led poor lives,
but this particular farmer wasn’t going to let his family suffer without food or warmth just because the soil
wasn’t fertile here. Generations of ancestors had lived off these meagre acres of farmland, and they were lucky
to actually have something to make a living off.
O
“
Take a rest, lao gong,” a slender woman called from the door of a dilapidated shack. “You’ve been
working all day.”
The farmer looked up, his weather-beaten face full of determination. “Well, lao po, the crops won’t
harvest themselves,” he said cheerfully. His brother looked up briefly, not saying a word. They continued
digging up sweet potatoes and pulling up bundles of pak choi that were long dead from the previous harsh
winter.
A small child’s head popped out, grinning, from behind his mother’s back. “Yay, mama will cook rice
cake for me!’ he chirped. “Come in, baba,” he said sweetly, cocking his head.
Beaming, the father reluctantly went in his house, waving for his brother to follow. There wasn’t any time
to lose, for he feared that the next harvest might be even worse than this one. The soil was already beginning to
crumble and lose its fertility, however little it had. As the two men went inside, the child ran up to hug his
uncle, who smiled shyly back. Then, the small family of four settled down for dinner.
Seeing this joyful scene, it would be hard to hold tears back, for harm would soon come to them. And who
know that, years later, that cozy little shack on its bright, sunny farm would soon be gone, for there would be no
one left to care for it.
A year later, a smartly dressed man riding atop a fast horse came by the farmer’s village. One by one, he
went to the shacks and delivered his message. For the family, it was a message of doom.
“
Don’t go!” the wife cried. “We can’t live without you!” Her husband and brother-in-law looked at the
distressed woman with sad eyes. “Take care of our son and the farm,” the father said, ruffling his beloved son’s
few pieces of hair for the last time. “Don’t worry; the man said we are only going to work there for a maximum
of three years. After we finish our assignment, there won’t be any invaders and we can all live better lives. We’ll
come back in time for Lunar New Year. I love you,” he added, his deep voice cracking with a mixture of
sadness and determination.
The wife hugged her son tightly, lost for words. Waving until her husband and brother-in-law had
disappeared from sight, she knew that there was no hope, but she had to be strong for her son. Word had spread